


Whoever Heard of a White Crow?

by Notsohappycamper



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Lies, M/M, Slow Burn, Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 11:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12530696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsohappycamper/pseuds/Notsohappycamper
Summary: In which Akechi is a real confidant Akira can spend time with whenever he pleases.





	1. Ogikuro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need so much more of Akechi than what they gave us. This is a self-indulgent solution to that.  
> I really just wanna take the kid to Destinyland, okay?

Some days, when Akira makes it home, as home as the ground level of Sojiro's coffee shop can possibly feel to a person, he finds Akechi-kun sitting unassumingly at the counter nursing a warm cup of coffee between intertwined fingers and staring off into space. Today just so happens to be one of those days.

He knows enough to see through the false smiles by now. He's spoken with Morgana about their doubts; the guy  _is_ suspicious, but Akira doesn't how exactly. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he will learn the full extent one day - who knows - but, today, it's more simple than that. Today, they are both just two high school students, one a famous detective and one an infamous phantom thief, and, today, Akechi happens to look his way as he walks through the door and smiles.

"How was your day today?"

Weird, Akira immediately thinks, pausing in the doorway, because when the hell had genius boy-detective Akechi ever been interested in the daily life of a normal high student like himself? Perhaps Morgana is right. Perhaps he knows that Akira is special. Perhaps he's special in some way himself. Paranoia would only eat him alive, though, so Akira walks closer, sets his bag down beside Akechi's cup and saucer, leans against the counter, and shrugs.

Akechi must not have been expecting him to get so close so casually. His eyes widen a bit, something close to vulnerability flashing through them before disappearing just as quickly. Then he's relaxing again, smiling again, and the overhead lights in the shop make his eyes look like melted pools of milk chocolate.

"I see. Uneventful then," he offers, even though the other gave him nothing more than a faint shrug to work with. Akira has a feeling he's worked wonders with far less before. "Perhaps that's a blessing in disguise, though."

A blessing in disguise? The Phantom Thief thinks it over while examining the practiced perfection of Goro Akechi's smiling face.

"And your day?" he finally asks in return, remembering that two people are needed for a proper conversation and he hadn't said a single word yet. Akechi's face doesn't shift in the slightest. Only his lips move, still encompassed by that perfect smile.

"Oh, you know. Business as usual."

It's said just shy of a chuckle, a pinch of humor implied in the tone. It's completely charming and endearing. Akira wonders how real it is. He sighs, tired from school and life and the weight of the world on his shoulders, glancing from Akechi's coffee to the other two customers in the shop to Sojiro cooking curry by the fridge then back to Akechi again.

"Been here long?" he asks, tired and lonely. How odd that being in a school surrounded by hundreds of his peers can make him feel more lonely than he's ever felt in his life, day after day. Yet, on the contrary, whenever he's with his small handful of friends, he never feels more alive.

Akechi's smile falls to neutral, and he shakes his head.

Does Akechi have friends, he wonders. Does Akechi go to a school where he floats through life there just as Akira does, small and lonely and quiet? Who does Akechi eat lunch with everyday? Police officers or high school girls? Does Akechi even eat lunch? Dinner? Why does Akira even care?

"...Kurusu-kun?"

"Wanna go get ramen or something?"

It's asked on a whim and makes that almost-vulnerable-but-not-quite thing happen in Akechi's eyes again.

"Oh. Well. You see..." It's clear he's been caught off guard and is trying to default to one of his stock responses. His stock response pile must have been jumbled by the unforeseen invitation, though, because he hesitates for a few seconds longer than what would have been normal contemplation on the matter. He might try to hide it, but Goro Akechi is anything but normal.

"I know a great place in Ogikuro." Akira picks up his bag again, stepping away from the counter. He doesn't miss the way Akechi straightens up in his chair, like he's been called upon in the middle of a classroom, caught drifting off to sleep and drooling on his desk. "My treat."

The detective prince jumps at his only chance to refuse. "Oh, I couldn't! Don't worry about it, I was planning on getting something on my way home. Either way, it was extremely kind of you to-"

"Wait for me here," Akira forces in, carrying his bag with him towards the stairs, intent on changing out of his school uniform before leaving.

When he sets his bag down in its usual spot, Morgana squirms from inside and pokes his head out.

"You better be careful around that guy," he warns, having heard the entire conversation. Distrust coats his voice. "Do you really know what you're doing here?"

Akira meets his eyes and gives a firm nod.

When he goes back downstairs, leaving Morgana to nap on his bed, there are no customers in the shop anymore but the brown-haired boy still sitting at the counter close to the door. He seems to be in deep thought, staring down at the shallow coffee left in his cup, but when he notices Akira approaching, that beautiful smile emerges again, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"This is rather sudden for me," he says, that hint of a laugh in his tone again. "Though I suppose I have no choice now but to take you up on your offer, huh?"

"Hey," Sojiro calls their attention from behind the counter, eyes focused on Akira. "Flip the sign when you leave, will ya? We're closing up for the day."

Akira nods while Akechi stands and digs into his wallet to pay for his drink, leaving a generous tip as well.

When they leave together, before Akira can do it himself, Akechi reaches out to flip the sign for him instead, smiling softly as it settles against the glass of the coffee shop door.

* * *

 "You were right. This ramen is delicious," Akechi admits with a smile after swallowing a mouthful of noodles.

He's sitting beside Akira at the front counter of the shop and holding his chopsticks delicately, as if they're at business meeting instead of just two almost-friends eating out for a late impromptu dinner. There's some kind of wall between them that Akira can feel as clear as day. It's so solid that he swears he could even see it if he focused on the space between them hard enough. A wall he doesn't share with any of his other friends. This ugly thing holding them back, making them hesitate and think over their next word as if it has the power to make or break everything they've ever known. Maybe it does. He feels that way with Akechi. He sees it in his eyes, in his smile.

Akira doesn't know why, but he suddenly gets the desire to break down that wall until there is nothing left, no matter the cost of doing so.

"It's nice to get away from work," he mentions, playing with an egg in his bowl. "I get the feeling you don't do that a lot."

It's direct as hell and an obvious attempt at prying into his personal life, but when has Akira ever held back from the chance to get his fingers into the inner workings of another's heart?

"In my line of work, no, not really," Akechi murmurs.

Still so vague. That damn wall strong as ever.

"I take some of my other friends here, too. They seem to like it."

The implication that Akechi is similar, if not equal, to Akira's other friends goes right over the detective's head. Either that, or he has chosen to ignore it. Instead, he latches onto another side of that statement.

"You have quite a few friends, don't you, Kurusu-kun?" He takes another mouthful of food and chews neatly before swallowing. Akira's gaze traces down from his eyes to his jaw. "You're lucky to have made friends so quickly in a new town."

Akira knows he's subtly implying foul play but doesn't pay any mind to it.

"Then again, maybe I'm not so unlucky myself," Akechi continues. "I could get used to someone treating me to ramen on a regular basis."

It's another one of his tension-breaking jokes, but, this time, it's a bit different. It's more playful, accented by the glint in his soft eyes, by the perfect smile turning a little lopsided in an almost genuine smirk. There was some truth to what he just said, Akira realizes. A single ray of honesty bursting through dark clouds. A crack in that wall between them. It stops Akira dead in his tracks, because, unlike possibly everything else the guy has ever said to his face, Akechi really meant that statement.

"Do you eat alone a lot?" Akira pries. The other pauses, then tilts his head and smiles prettily down at his ramen bowl.

"Sometimes."

Too vague. A red flag. "Always" is probably closer to the truth.

"Eating meals with adults too often may have shaped my eating habits. I apologize if I'm not the most relaxed person to share a meal with, Kurusu-kun." He brushes stray hair away from his eye before setting down his chopsticks and dabbing politely at his closed mouth with a napkin. He's done with his ramen, but he's settling back in his seat, willing to continue the conversation for now. Akira takes note and begins eating as slowly as he possibly can without looking suspicious. "I'm not actually sure what peers our age are even talking about these days. I guess that's how disconnected I am, living in the world of adults."

"Oh, you know," Akira shrugs, swirling a thick noodle around in his broth, "mostly whatever's popular at the time. New music, new games. The Phantom Thieves. You."

"Me?" He looks taken aback, then smiles. "Don't tell me you're one of my fan girls, Kurusu-kun."

"Damn, you got me. Take me away, my detective prince..."

"I knew it." Akechi carries the joke on without missing a beat. "Once the others find out I've dined with you, they'll have your head, you know."

"Oh, bring it on, girls," Akira deadpans seriously, and that's when Akechi breaks. Akira feels a bloom of pride at his laughter, at having coaxed such a rare reaction from him. Another crack in their wall.

"You're a pretty charismatic guy," Akechi tells him with a beautiful smile, and he doesn't really know what to do with that compliment, so he just bounces his leg anxiously, fills his mouth with noodles, and offers a smile back. When his jiggling knee bumps into Akechi's, neither acknowledges it.

True to his promise, Akira pays for the both of them, though they spend at least three whole minutes lingering at the counter while Akechi insists on paying for his own meal. Akira has to practically throw his yen at the owner to get him to drop it. Afterwards, as they are walking to the train station to go their separate ways, Akechi is silent and frowning the entire time. Is he upset? Regretful of this whole outing? The sun's just beginning to dip in the sky, and it's playing in his light brown hair, making it shine almost golden.

"We should do this again sometime," Akira says, more to break the silence than anything else. Tension is thick between them, as it always is. He can feel himself choking on it. He wonders if Akechi feels the same, standing still on the platform as people mill around them, mostly salary men getting off late from work and students catching the train home from school activities. "It was nice."

Akechi's lips curl, puppeteered by strings pulled as an afterthought. His eyes, though, are still frowning. "Perhaps I'll take you up on such an offer again in the future."

"Hm," Akira hums.

His train will be here soon, but he'd rather it wasn't. Selfishly, childishly, impossibly, he wants something more than just this wire frame of a union. He wants to hear Akechi laugh again like he did when they were joking about his fan girls. He wants to hear Akechi admit that he would like to be treated out to food more often. He wants to hear Akechi speak freely and hold nothing back, to share his feelings and talk and talk and bond until they are as thick as thieves.

He wants to be Akechi's friend. Genuinely, he does.

It's tugging at his heart now, filling his throat with unsaid words that he isn't sure should be said at all. The taste of warm ramen broth lingers on his tongue. The palms of his hands itch, and he rocks side to side on the balls of his feet. Something bubbles up from within him and escapes before he can think twice about forcing it back down.

"Do you have a phone? By the way?"

Akechi glances over with the expression of someone who's staring at an alien life form.

"...Yes... I do."

"Can we exchange numbers?" Akira asks. He's pulling his own phone out before he gets a response, hoping that his forward actions can help cement the desired outcome. There are a few awkward moments of one-sidedly opening up his contacts list and waiting, before Akechi slowly retrieves his phone from his pocket as well.

Once he has recited his number, Akira saves it and sends a short text to deliver his own. "Sup," he'd sent. Akechi scoffs at the utter silliness of it before tucking his phone away. He seemed reluctant to hang out and even relinquish his number in the first place, so it comes as a surprise to Akira when, as he's stepping away to board his train and return home, Akechi smiles, waves goodbye, and tells him, "See you soon."

Akira would like to think he actually means it.


	2. Leblanc

"This is it..." Ryuji wilts in defeat, sprawling over his notes and Akira's in the process. Across the table, Makoto sighs and raises a palm to her face. "I don't even care about passing this test... I'm gonna die either way from tryna jam this shit into my brain!"

"Ryuji," Akira mutters, trying to ease his math book out from under Ryuji's arm. He doesn't move; just lets out another pained groan more suited for the battlefield than an afternoon study session.

"Do you want to pass this test or not?" Makoto asks, packing her books away early. Akira perks up, genuinely wanting to learn the material unlike Ryuji. His grades aren't anywhere near as bad as the blond's, but if his terrible study habits keep on any longer, he won't be too far off.

Call it an excuse, but it's hard to focus on math and history and English when you're the leader of a group of heroes who harness the power to change people's hearts. When he thinks about the circumstances they face everyday, this equation he'd been struggling to solve for the past five minutes seems like an ant compared to that other aspect of his life.

That carefree mentality coupled with his ever-growing list of friends and acquaintances left him struggling in every class he has. He would be more than happy to spend nights studying, but that would also mean ignoring texts from Iwai, giving Ohya the cold shoulder, and ceasing his visits to Chihaya's fortune-telling stand.

And, as of a week ago, spending anywhere from a few minutes to an hour with Goro Akechi.

Since their trip to Ogikuro, the young detective had only shown his face in Leblanc two more times, and each time he insistently refused stepping foot outside again with Akira. They sat together and talked for a bit, but it was never anything like that first conversation. There were no jokes, no coyly dancing around personal questions. All answers were kept short, curt, and to the point, and Akira had quickly realized that, after their first meetup, Akechi had undone all the progress he'd made in chipping down the wall between them and rebuilt it ten times stronger.

Akira sighs now thinking about it. He drags the end of his pencil against the metal spiral of his trapped notebook.

Makoto mirrors his sigh from across the table. "Should we just stop now? With this attitude, you two won't get much work done. _Ryuji_."

"Hey, c'mon!" Ryuji shoots up in defense, and Akira seizes the chance to get his notebook back. "It's not my fault! This guy's been spacing out for the past ten minutes, too!"

Ryuji hits Akira's chest with the back of his hand. Had he really been spacing out that much? He'd just been thinking about his recent conversations with Akechi. He starts to apologize, but Makoto cuts him off by closing her book with a definite snap.

"Well," she nods, putting her things in her bag. "I think this session is over."

"No!" Ryuji dives for her arm, but she evades, bouncing to her feet. "You gotta save me, please! I'm done for without you!"

"You can only save yourself now, Ryuji."

Her voice is harsh, but her eyes are dancing with mirth, a helpless smile playing on her lips. Akira can't hold back a smile of his own at the sight, a sudden love for his friends spreading fire through his chest.

Ryuji's begging for her forgiveness when the front door of Leblanc eases open, and footsteps accented by sharp dress shoes echo across the floor. All three of them turn to see Akechi-kun, who runs his blank gaze over each of them before settling in his usual seat at the front counter. If he was surprised to see more than just Akira here - and Ryuji clinging like an urchin to the hem of Makoto's skirt - not a single hint of it showed on his face.

The air at the table, perhaps in all of Leblanc, grows tense in that moment. Makoto's teasing, affectionate smile is a thing of the past. Her movements are stiff as she shoulders her bag. Ryuji follows along and starts packing up, too, though with more unbridled aggression.

"So, uh," he mutters to his best friend. Akira wants to smooth that serious look off his face. It doesn't belong there. "You still down for running tomorrow?"

"You know it."

"Cool, man. Just hoping I can pass this damn test..."

"You'll be in my thoughts and prayers tonight."

"Very funny." Ryuji grins, punching his shoulder.

"Come on, Ryuji," Makoto urges. "Let's walk to the station together."

She's fiddling with the strap of her schoolbag, scuffing at the floor with her shoe. Aside from their voices, the entire cafe is silent. Akechi already has an ordered drink cradled between his palms. He must have ordered it from Sojiro while Ryuji was speaking.

"I'll text you guys," Akira mentions before they turn to leave, and they nod, knowing the unfinished end of that sentence is "if I need you for Mementos."

After they're gone, the silence only grows deeper. Sojiro grumbles to himself and clicks the TV on for some background noise, switching from the local news to an on-going shogi match and lingering by the sink to listen while washing dishes. Akira spends at least a full minute glancing from his notes to the back of Goro Akechi's head. He's usually the one to start a conversation, but the fact that he's keeping to himself must mean he's not looking for company today. He probably came here to relax after a hard day of work.

Time passes slowly. Akira skims his notes and systemically checks his phone while Akechi sips at his coffee in silence, head angled towards the TV. Only after Akechi has pushed his cup forward, has left payment and a tip, and has rose from his seat, does Akira open his mouth.

"Hey."

The brunette looks back over his shoulder, clearly caught off guard.

"Good afternoon, Kurusu-kun."

The next few seconds pass in awkward silence. When Akechi blinks down at him, lingering, Akira gets the feeling that he's waiting for something. Maybe he does want to spend some time together after all, but just doesn't want to be the one to say it. Akechi's patience pulls out the words stuck in Akira's throat.

"Wanna sit with me while I cram for a test?"

An eyebrow is raised at his oddly-worded request, but Akechi accepts readily, scooting into the booth seat across from him where Makoto sat not too long ago.

"Cramming isn't the best study tactic," Akechi says, curious eyes scanning Akira's notes upside down.

"You've crammed before?"

"Me? Ah, no." Akechi smiles. "I can't afford to."

Akira's not sure how to interpret that. He examines the boy across from him, his heavy-lidded eyes, the slump of his shoulders. To anyone not looking hard enough, he's no different than the picture-perfect detective he usually is, but Akira can see it now, close up. He looks exhausted.

"I can imagine it's hard," he mentions, spinning his pencil across his fingers. "Going to school while working at the same time, I mean."

Akechi's tired eyes flit up from his notebook. "You would know."

For a split second, Akira's heart stops then restarts itself again. Work...? Leblanc. He's talking about Leblanc. ...Right?

"I guess," he mumbles, hoping to drop the subject. As if on cue, his phone vibrates once in his pocket, and he gratefully fishes it out.

It's a stern message from Iwai asking if he's coming in to work tonight. He doesn't want to refuse, but agreeing to that would mean sacrificing this exceedingly rare time with Akechi, so he sends a short text back that he can't make it tonight then returns his phone to his pocket.

To his surprise, Akechi breaches the space between them and turns his notebook around so he can see the equations properly. He hums once, then nods as if he's solved everything within seconds.

"You're forgetting to factor." He specifies with an elegant tap of his finger. "In this one. You can't just add these together yet."

"Ah fuck," Akira blurts out, forgetting that he's not around close friends anymore. Akechi freezes at the swear, mumbled so easily, like they're best friends and not just acquaintances, and Akira feels his face grow warm in embarrassment. It seems hanging out with Ryuji so often has been rubbing off on him.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." Akechi slides the notebook back over, then shifts uncomfortably in his seat like he can't decide if he wants to leave or not. "I wish you luck on your upcoming test."

"Hey, uh," Sojiro says from the counter. He's holding two plates of his famous curry, carrying them over to their booth. "Thought you might need a little brain food..."

He's awkward in his affection, standoffish and rough around the edges, but Akira can see where his heart is coming from. He may seem harsh, but Sojiro has a heart of pure gold. Akira accepts a plate with a smile and a thanks, but Akechi pushes his back across the table instead.

"Thank you, Sakura-san, but I couldn't-"

"I already made it, so you're eating it. We don't waste food around here."

It's clear there's no more room to argue when Sojiro turns on his heel and heads back to the sink, so Akechi sighs and reaches for his fork.

"Both you and Sakura-san are too kind," he murmurs, beginning his unusually delicate process of eating. "Treating me to free meals like this."

"Well, you are a regular here. And..." My friend. Akira doesn't say it. Would it even be true? Is that really what they are? He trails off, going back to scrutinizing the equation Akechi pointed to in his notebook.

They eat together in relative silence from then on, Akechi's eyes glued to the TV, chewing slowly, and Akira trying to focus on his math problem again. Funny how he couldn't focus earlier because of thoughts of Akechi, and now that the other is right in front of him, he's still the main source of the distraction. Akira had been worried that he wasn't going to pass this math test, but now he knows for sure the odds are stacked against him.

When Akechi is done eating, he pushes his plate forward, eyes passing over his companion. Akira wants to say something to start a conversation, but he's terrible at small talk; he's so naturally quiet himself that when faced with another quiet person, conversation seems to grind to a halt. That and something about Akechi seems off today. He's usually so pleasant and talkative he could have a meaningful talk with a bag of potatoes. But tonight he's slumped forward in the booth seat, a hand under his chin, his face tired and relaxed, maybe a little bored. His eyes move ever so slightly back and forth, focused on the shogi match on TV.

His eyes aren't completely brown, Akira notices. There's something like flakes of maroon in them, too, similar to Makoto's, but softer. Far more gentle. They're a remarkable color, but there's something lurking beneath them. Something impossibly deep. To look into that something feels like peering into a hole that's been drilled to the center of the Earth, but Akira wants to try. He wants to try and reach the center...

Those eyes swivel towards him now and widen in surprise.

"Kurusu-kun?"

Oh. He'd been staring. More than that, he'd been scrutinizing, leaning forward on the table and squinting. For the second time that evening, he feels a burn of embarrassment.

"Sorry. I spaced out."

It's an obvious lie. The other looks intrigued, but stays silent, tilts his head, and gazes back just as deeply.

"Anyway." Akira breaks eye contact, closing his notebook for good. He's barely touched his own curry. His heart beats hard in his chest. "I can't focus. It's getting late, so I can walk you to the station if you want."

Very slowly, Akechi's lips curl into a smile. "Do I need you to protect me?"

Akira blinks. "What?"

"It was a nice offer, but I think I'll be fine on my way there."

"No, I... I didn't mean it like that. It was just a suggestion."

"Oh, I know." Akechi looks up, smiling pleasantly. "I was only joking."

Oh, Akira thinks. Aren't jokes supposed to be funny and not... whatever that was? That was borderline aggressive and challenging, but oddly paired with that beautiful smile of his. What did he mean by that? Another attempt to push him away? Or something else?

"You really are too kind," Akechi tells him, placing more money by his empty plate and pushing himself to his feet. "Both you and Sakura-san. Goodnight then, Kurusu-kun."

Akira can't even say his goodbyes as Akechi walks out the door, too busy wondering if what was just said was a thinly-veiled threat.

* * *

A few days later, Akira is the first of them to take advantage of having exchanged phone numbers. It's the middle of a school day, the exact hour when time seems to drag on and on, and it feels like he's been trapped in classrooms forever and will be for the rest of his life.

In the ten minutes before his second-to-last class starts, he sits lower in his seat and pulls out his phone, finding Akechi in his contacts list. Morgana's tail swishes lazily from inside his desk, small body curled and eyes closed.

[Akira]: I passed the math test. Barely.

His phone vibrates ten minutes later, once class has started. Having grown accustom to texting during class and not getting caught, he peers down at the response.

[Akechi]: Good job.

[Akira]: Thanks.

He hesitates before sending another message, wondering if he's overstepping his bounds. But then he remembers how Akechi pushed him away during their last meeting. How he hid behind weird jokes, muttered threats, and pleasantly fake smiles. How blank his eyes looked when he saw Akira with his friends. The extent of their brown depths when Akira took the time to peer into them.

He types his message and taps the send button.

[Akira]: Are you free tomorrow?

He doesn't get a response back.

Mementos is rough that day, mostly because of him putting off requests for so long. They clear floor after floor until they're virtually dragging themselves back to Morgana after the most basic fights, so Morgana suggests they call it quits for the day.

Ann drapes an arm over Ryuji's shoulders on the long ride back to the top, leaning her weight against him like she can't bear it alone, and Yusuke slumps in the front seat with his head against the window and his eyes closed.

Akira makes a mental promise to never push them this hard again.

After he's locked up Leblanc for the night and has thrown himself onto his bed in exhaustion, his phone vibrates. It lays dormant on the floor where he carelessly dropped it earlier in his eagerness to strip out of his school uniform and get into his pajamas. The sound of it against the hardwood makes Morgana flinch.

[Akechi]: Yes.

Akira stares at that single word and smiles. It's so like Akechi, impersonal, short and curt and to the point, but it feels like progress.


	3. Inokashira Park

The shock on Akechi's face when he sees Akira in front of the courthouse speaks more than any amount of words could. If Akira were as artsy as Yusuke, he would want a painting of that expression; so genuinely surprised, as if Akira had walked in on him using the bathroom in his own home instead of just waiting outside his workplace after school.

He raises his hand to wave, oblivious to the true extent of Akechi's disbelief.

It's a lovely day out; a perfect one, even. It's day like these that Akira tries to appreciate to the fullest while he can. It would be a sin to coop himself up in Mementos or a Palace when he could be out under this sun, cherishing the caress of the breeze on his skin, and he knows his companions feel the same. Their happiness and free time is as valuable as his, so, on days like today, he takes full advantage of being the leader and gives everyone a much-needed day off to spend however they want.

He, personally, has chosen to spend the day shopping in the underground mall in Shibuya and waiting for Akechi to get off of work.

Sae Niijima is standing next to him, confused at how he froze mid-sentence before following his gaze and frowning, narrowing her eyes at Akira. She says something to the detective that Akira can't hear before promptly leaving, and Akechi beelines for the other boy, visibly struggling to pick up the broken pieces of his composure.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, laughing softly. It sounds frayed around the edges. He takes in the unfamiliar sight of Akira waiting patiently for him with a shopping bag in one hand.

"You told me you were free yesterday," Akira shrugs, shifting his weight on his feet.

Bright sunlight is beating down on them from a cloudless sky, so he'd really like to wrap this up and take Akechi were he had planned to the night before. He'd already passed off Morgana to Ann who was happy for the extra company on her Harajuku shopping trip. Morgana, needless to say, was overjoyed to spend time with her as well.

Akira spent the majority of the walk to the courthouse reminding himself that it's for Morgana's sake, that he prefers his Lady Ann, that his dislike for Akechi would have only made him uncomfortable sticking around them. Those excuses look nice on paper, but they ring hollow at their core. He knows the real reason is because he wanted Akechi and him to be alone today. He doesn't like to think about that reason, though, because it feels too much like betrayal, even when he knows it shouldn't.

Akechi looks over his shoulder, bouncing his suitcase in his hand and stalling for an excuse. There is none. Akira knows he's done with work, because this is around the usual time he finds Akechi in Leblanc. If fact, Akira often shows up earlier than this and already finds him with a half-drained mug of coffee in his hands.

"Let's head to the park." Akira captures his attention again. He still has the lingering expression of a cat that's been thrown into the ocean while it was sleeping. That flustered look is exquisite on his usually perfect face, like an ancient god who's blushing at a love letter. Akira can't even feel bad, because the image before him is a sight to behold. "It's such a nice day out, ya know?"

When he still doesn't speak, Akira takes the lead and walks away towards the train station. He doesn't have to look back to know the other is following.

"You're annoyingly persistent," Akechi tells him on the train ride over. It's packed at this time of day, so they find themselves pressed shoulder to shoulder, huddled together in a joint effort to avoid the touch of strangers. Because of the heat, Akechi has removed his tan jacket, so Akira can feel the soft press of his bicep and a thin layer of sweat forming between their sandwiched arms.

He hears that muttered sentence and expects Akechi to be frowning, but he glances over and finds a teasing smile instead. He's definitely no longer the tired, cynical thing he was when they sat together in the cafe. If there's one thing he's learning about Akechi, the  _real_ Akechi, the boy behind those perfect smiles on TV, it's that he's actually quite a moody person. When he's not packing them down like snow under heavy boots, his emotions are actually so clear he might as well be wearing them on his sleeve.

Akira wonders how many people in the world know that personal detail about the detective prince. Probably only enough to count on one hand.

"If I wasn't so annoying, you'd still be at work right now," he counters, watching Akechi's smirk widen. He spends so long gazing silently into Akira's eyes that the Phantom Thief starts to think there's something on his face.

"What about your other friends?"

"What about them...?"

He shakes his head to dismiss the question. Akira furrows his brow and looks away, focusing on the pressure of Akechi's warm skin against his own instead of the uncertainty he just saw in his eyes. When they reach their destination, he takes the lead again, slowing his usual pace to accommodate for his companion.

"I apologize if I seem distracted," Akechi says as they approach the park. "I've been working on the psychotic breakdown cases recently. It's draining at times."

"I can imagine."

"It's funny." Akechi tilts his head back and smiles up at the blue sky. "The answer can feel like it's right in front of us, but we cannot even begin to reach out and grasp it. Even when it feels so intimately close. Don't you agree?"

Akira silently ponders his words.

Others are taking advantage of the nice day as well. Couples with linked arms, clusters of giggling school girls, a few cyclists passing by on their bikes. They're walking side by side, but Akira steers them towards a more secluded area for some privacy. As soon as they entered the park, Akechi had already been spotted and ogled at by more than a handful of people. Sometimes Akira forgets he's at the side of a national celebrity.

The prince wanders over to a fallen log away from the park trail, sets his suitcase on the grass, and takes a seat on its smooth bark. He pats the other side of the log twice, so Akira sets down his bags beside the suitcase and takes a seat, too.

It's odd how you can share a few quiet moments with a person and feel like it's the closest you've ever been. They're sitting a foot apart from each other, nothing but the rustling of leaves and chirps of bird around them, but Akira feels a force in his chest, the bond between him and this mysterious boy growing stronger and stronger. It's rejuvenating, crushing over him powerfully like a wave of clear justice.

"You don't get out often like this, do you?" he asks. It might sound rude to anyone else, but he knows Akechi won't take it that way.

"I'm afraid you're correct. I don't have many friends," he admits, leaning back on his hands. He stretches his long legs out, sighing into the warm breeze. "None my age at least."

"You have  _one_ your age."

He pauses, looking to Akira. His light brown hair flutters in the breeze, dancing around his cheeks and tickling his neck. Akira is struck speechless at the natural beauty of him.

"Do I really?" he asks, voice shy of a whisper.

"Wouldn't you say so?"

The detective shakes his head with a cynical smile, though not in response to his question. It's more a gesture of disbelief.

"Indulge me. Why are you trying so hard, Kurusu-kun? To be my friend."

Akira hadn't really thought about it. Does he need a reason? Akechi seems to think he needs one. He takes some time to think it over, not wanting to admit that he feels as if their souls are helplessly tied together in an un-doable knot by some unspeakable force.

"I think you're interesting," he says instead, shrugging, and Akechi has the audacity to huff out a laugh and openly scoff in his face.

"You hardly know me!"

It stings, but it's the truth. After all their time spent together, he really knows nothing about Goro Akechi; nothing about his school life, his family life, or how he even became a famous detective in the first place. None of his likes or dislikes, his hobbies, his aspirations. He knows nothing but what little he's seen from dolled-up TV interviews and ridiculous rumors passed around school.

Akechi is right. How can someone like that be his friend? How can they be close at all? He feels foolish now for overlooking that. Foolish, but not discouraged.

"So tell me about yourself."

The detective prince smiles in response and winks with all the confidence of a man who knows his looks and popularity make him untouchable.

"Kurusu-kun, don't you watch my interviews?"

So that's how he's going to play it. An answer rehearsed and sculpted to perfection, like Akira is just another one of his shallow fans. He must have said those exact words in the same exact way to dozens upon dozens of high school girls in the past, judging by how perfectly it fell from his lips coupled with that flirtatious wink.

"I mean the real you," Akira mutters, unimpressed by the cute display. He was honestly more taken by Akechi when he was just relaxing in the sun and the wind was tousling his hair, when it was simple and natural and _human_. Something so fake as that wink could never sway him; if anything, it disappoints him.

"The  _real_ me? You say that as if I'm wearing a mask." Akira's eyes dart to him at that eerily familiar choice of words. "You're looking at the real me, Kurusu-kun."

A blatant lie. It's shameless. Akira feels a sting of rejection shoot through his chest and wonders if he should even try anymore, try to push against and overcome this opposing force, or if he should just excuse himself right now before things between them fall apart even more than they already have. It's so hard... Why is Akechi making it so hard to be anything closer than this?

They sit in silence while Akira kicks at the grass under his feet until a clump of it tumbles forward, landing not too far away. Akechi makes a noise in his throat that's something between a hum and a sigh, and, when Akira dares to peek over, what he sees there is startling. His face is blank, but there's desperation in his eyes, a barely-contained sorrow to them.

It reminds Akira of how he looked when they sat together in Leblanc before his math test. He carried a certain despondent air with him then like a rain cloud. Even before that, after they had eaten ramen together in Ogikuro, the detective had looked unusually gloomy on the train ride back.

"Is something wrong?" he tries asking for the first time since meeting the boy. Akechi doesn't speak, staring down at his own restless hands in his lap, fidgeting with each of his fingers over and over. His silence speaks volumes. "You can tell me... I might not know you too well, but-"

"You have no idea what you're doing here, do you?" Akechi mutters with a humorless smile, closing his eyes. His voice is quiet, but Akira hears the bitter, self-deprecating tone as loud as a gunshot.

"...I do. I'm spending time with a friend."

He must have struck the nail on the head, because Akechi tears his gaze away and swallows, shaking hair out of his face.

"Is that so hard for you to believe? That I don't care about your fame or good looks? That I just want to hang out with you because I like you?"

"You..." When Akira finally looks his way, his blazing eyes threaten to set the park aflame. "Have no idea what you're doing...!"

There they are. His real emotions. They're loud, vibrant, and beautiful, and they steal Akira's breath away within a single fleeting moment. That isn't something he's growled angrily to dozens of girls in the past. That was an explosion of feeling, an impulsive moment in time shared with Akira and Akira only. And as soon as it's shown, it's whisked away just as fast.

Akechi is pushing himself to his feet, pacing a few feet away to collect himself, and crossing his arms with a ragged sigh. Akira stares up at the back of his crisp white shirt, dumbstruck. Somewhere nearby in the park, a dog barks and a little girl squeals and laughs.

"Akechi, I'm s-"

"I apologize," he interrupts, calm and polite, back still turned. When he turns around, those once emotional features are now blank, not a spark of fire in them. "I had no right to speak to you that way. I hope you will forgive me. I've been particularly stressed lately."

They were so close, nearly heart to heart, arteries nearly entangled, and now, all over again, they are a million miles away. Akira looks down at his shopping bag on the grass, the expensive flan he bought for the boy in front of him still wrapped up neatly inside it, probably wilting by now in the heat.

"It's... okay," he whispers. "No big deal..."

On the other side of the strengthened wall between them, Goro Akechi smiles and nods.

When the older boy offers to walk him home to Leblanc, he can't refuse. His chest feels full in a painful way that clogs up his throat and makes it hard to swallow. His school bag is heavy on his shoulder, though it should feel lighter without its usual feline occupant. He wants to ball his shopping bag up and throw it as hard as he can.

Akechi pauses beside him at the door of Leblanc. His tan jacket is draped over his shoulder, his suitcase in his left hand. Akira focuses on a button on his shirt, unable to look him straight in the eye.

"Sorry about everything," he says, perhaps uselessly, because Akechi just shrugs, waving it off.

"Don't be. As always, it was nice to get away from work for a while. You have my thanks, Kurusu-kun."

A middle-aged man exits Leblanc, and the two high-schoolers shuffle awkwardly out of his way, moving a little closer to the side of the building and to each other. None of his other friendships or acquaintances are like this, Akira thinks, looking down to Akechi's shoes. He's met so many people since he's moved to this new city, and not a single one of them has ever been as hard to get close to as Goro Akechi. He doesn't know why, but people usually have no problem opening their hearts to him and letting him into their lives. This is so different, so difficult. Maybe that just makes it worth trying, though.

"You can call me Akira." The other raises an eyebrow, so he clarifies. "Everyone does. I don't really care about honorifics."

"Then I'll start doing that, Akira." In the shade of the building, Akechi's brown eyes harden. "As I said, my list of friends is not exactly bountiful. I'm afraid I might end up driving you away."

"You won't," he says with resolve. He can tell that Akechi doesn't believe him.

When the detective turns to leave, he takes a few steps away, then stops, giving the other a side-long glance.

"Will you text me again?"

A tentative hand reaching out through a crack in their wall. It's quiet and hopeful and, suddenly, it's all worth it. The pain, the confusion, the one-sided efforts. Akira is sure now, without a doubt. Goro Akechi is worth it all.

"I'll text you goodnight if you want," he teases. It sounded less flirtatious in his mind than when it came out of his mouth, but he figures it fine, seeing as how Akechi smiles, angling his face away.

"There is no need for that. Goodbye then, Akira."

He eats the flan he bought for Akechi later that night while watching a movie with Morgana, letting the cat rant about his "date" with Ann over the dialogue of the movie. Morgana asks about his own day, but he just says he spent it with a good friend outside the Phantom Thieves, and Morgana leaves it at that.

When he's in the bathroom downstairs brushing his teeth before bed, he wanders back up, toothbrush limp in his mouth, to grab his phone and fulfill a promise he made.

[Akira]: Goodnight.

The response is instant.

[Akechi]: Unnecessary.

He barks out a laugh around his toothbrush before scrambling to keep it in his mouth. Akechi's sense of humor can be a force of nature when he wants it to. Mainly when he feels comfortable enough to let it shine.

[Akira]: Too late. Already sent. Can't take it back.

[Akechi]: Then I suppose I have no choice in the matter.  
[Akechi]: Goodnight to you as well.

[Akira]: I meant what I said, you know. About knowing what I'm doing.

[Akechi]: Hm?

[Akira]: About knowing I want to be your friend.

[Akechi]: I see.  
[Akechi]: Very well.  
[Akechi]: You can do as you please.  
[Akechi]: Goodnight, Akira.

[Akira]: Goodnight, Goro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #LetAkechiHaveACaringRelationshipWithAnotherHumanBeingForOnceInHisTragicMiserableLife


	4. Leblanc (Night)

As glamorous as it may seem, being a Phantom Thief isn't cheap. Ryuji's shiny new 15,000 yen model shotgun could attest to that. While the group got the majority of their funds from pawning off items they collected from Palaces and Mementos, there were moments when their savings ran low and things became a little more dire.

And that is why Akira is currently taking orders, cooking food, and washing dishes at the Beef Bowl Shop in Shibuya.

He doesn't mind doing manual labor for the team; not really. Last week, Ann spent some of the money she received from a small modeling job to chip in towards new protective gear for Makoto, so Akira figures it's the least he can do as the leader to make sure his team has what they need to stay alive in combat. Even if it does mean standing on his feet for three hours straight and scrubbing grease and sauce stains from ceramic dishes.

He's just finished taking a young woman's order when a familiar face comes through the door, instantly brightening his night. Carrying a small bag over his shoulder, Yusuke walks in, looks around the place, then heads to a small table in the corner. Akira would have to guess that he either came here to draw or to give him some company for the night. Knowing Yusuke, it's probably a little of both.

He did mention earlier in their group chat that he would be working at this restaurant tonight, so, after filling the current orders, he wipes his hands on his apron and heads to the table in the far corner.

Yusuke already has a small notepad out with two sharpened pencils beside it. A third pencil is in his hand, shaping the elegant curves and intricate shading of his latest sketch. Looking at its abstract form from upside down, Akira thinks it's some kind of bird, its magnificent wings spread to the heavens in mid-flight. He watches Yusuke's delicate hand fine tune a feather on the end of the left wing before realizing that if he doesn't say something, Yusuke is never going to look up. He never breaks concentration when he's in the zone like this.

"It's pretty."

Yusuke's eyes stay focused on the page.

"Can I get you something to drink, or did you just come here to draw?"

Still nothing.

"Yusuke Kitagawa."

Only at the sound of his full name does the artist pause and look to the speaker. Upon seeing Akira, his expression softens in recognition and affection.

"I apologize," he murmurs sincerely, placing his pencil down. He gestures to the chair across from him, so Akira takes a seat, glancing back at the counter to make sure his other co-worker has things under control for the time being. "I came here hoping to offer some emotional support for you during your sacrifice for the team."

Akira smiles thoughtfully.

"...And to take advantage of the fast-paced atmosphere for ideas on my latest piece."

Yup. That sounds more like it. Still, he can't complain.

Yusuke allows him to reach over the table and more closely examine what he'd been drawing. It really is quite beautiful, in the same way that anything Yusuke draws or paints is beautiful, though he knows that if he says it's beautiful out loud, Yusuke would never believe him. He's a terrible perfectionist like that.

"I don't wish to order anything from here," he mentions, long fingers plucking his notepad back from the other's waiting hand. "Even if I did, I'm afraid I couldn't afford it."

"Yusuke..." he sighs, exasperated. How does the artist always manage to find himself in these situations...? "I'll bring you something then. On the house."

"Are you allowed to do that?" he asks in surprise.

"If some of my tip money happens to find its way into the register, yes, I am."

Yusuke insists that he mustn't, but he does anyway, placing a hearty bowl of beef and rice on the table a few minutes later. Though he sighs in disapproval, Yusuke's eyes are full of gratitude.

Akira slips away from work as often as he can over the course of the next hour to chat and check on the progress of the drawing. His good friend's company makes the boring work shift fly by, and, before he knows it, Yusuke is walking him to the train station and wishing him a good night. Akira passes some fare money into his hand and hops onto his train before he can refuse, smiling out the window at him as the train departs.

Satisfied that Yusuke will have enough money to make it home safely, he walks to Leblanc peacefully, eager for the warm embrace of his bed after work. Sojiro is standing outside the door to Leblanc and talking to someone, it seems. From the few times he's worked at the Beef Bowl Shop in the past, he knows he usually finishes his shift and rides the train home in the same time that Leblanc closes for the night, so he's used to coming home to an already locked door. Sojiro spending the time to linger outside the cafe is definitely a new sight.

"Is that so?" A familiar and pleasant voice laughs softly before a sigh is heard. "Well, thank you regardless, Sakura-san."

Sojiro grumbles something then turns and walks down the alley towards Akira, pausing to inform him that everything is locked up and to wish him a good night. Akira wishes him one in return, already fishing his key out of his pocket. When he ventures closer, he sees Akechi walking towards him as well, his trademark suitcase absent from his hand, wearing a light gray button-up with tan slacks in place of his usual uniform.

"Good evening, Akira," he greets, pausing mid-step. Akira has never seen him at the cafe this late before. He definitely has never stayed this late whenever Akira was home to help out Sojiro with business. He can't help but wonder now, did Akechi spend all this time waiting for him to show up...?

"It's late," Akira just says, looking the other over. His key dangles idly in his hand.

"That it is." Akechi smiles, tired. He looks like he wants to say more, but nods once in parting and simply leaves after that.

Akira is almost 100% sure now that he was waiting specifically for him until the shop closed. And even then, he must have stalled Sojiro to have an excuse to wait around some more. After all that, after spending an entire evening in patient solitude, all Akira had for him was a confused and muttered, "It's late." Some friend he is.

He unlocks the front door with a frown, using his cellphone light to find his way to the stairs through the dark. As he predicted, Morgana is already asleep, curled up into a little ball of fur on his couch. Squinting at his cellphone screen in the darkness, he decides to send a short text that he hopes will quell the guilt he feels deep in his chest.

[Akira]: Sorry.

He gets a response immediately. Akechi must be in the station waiting for his train.

[Akechi]: You're sorry? For what?

[Akira]: Dunno.

[Akechi]: ?

A minute passes, and Akira gets a stupid idea. He knows it's stupid because, before he's even stopped to think it over, he's already typing it out.

[Akira]: Wait where you are. Don't get on your train yet.

[Akechi]: What? Is something wrong?

[Akira]: I'm coming to the station.  
[Akira]: Let's hang for a bit.

[Akechi]: But it's getting late...  
[Akechi]: You said so yourself.

[Akira]: Be there in 5.

Leaving Morgana to sleep and locking the door behind him, he exits Leblanc and takes off in a jog towards the station. Akechi is obediently waiting when he gets there, leaning against the wall by the stairs, his phone in his hand. In this light, Akira can really appreciate his outfit. He looks even nicer when he's not in his uniform. He looks more human.

"What is this about?" he asks, concerned, and suddenly Akira feels the full stupidity of his idea wash over him. What  _is_ this about...? What is he doing?

"I can't sleep," he lies. "I was gonna go somewhere to relax. I thought you could join me, if you want to."

Akechi should say no. Any sane person would. The trains stop running in less than five hours, and anywhere they could go would also take time and money to get to. It's dark outside. They're both sleepy. Tomorrow's a school day. Akechi had probably been stressed all day with his work, then bored at Leblanc for hours, waiting. He should say no. He should want to go home immediately, get in bed, and fall asleep as soon as he can.

"This is unexpected," he says. He looks down at the cement under their feet, his brown hair falling into his face. "It's not exactly the best time, you know."

"Yeah..."

Akira crosses his arms, watching a small handful of people board the train. In front of him, Akechi clicks on his phone, checking the time. When he turns it off and pockets it, there's a smile on his face.

"There is always one place close by we could go to. It's nothing fancy, but it's a place to talk. To 'relax', as you said."

With that, he leads the other boy up the stairs and back to the front door of Leblanc.

It feels less like spending time with a friend and more like sneaking around, knowing Morgana is sleeping upstairs. It feels like he's a child again, trying to hide his favorite secret from his parents. In that sense, it should feel wrong, but it doesn't. Instead there is a light giddiness when he slides in to sit across from Akechi in the booth closest to the door. There's a sense of freedom, a release of today's stress melting off his body. Being near Akechi, talking to him one-on-one, can sometimes feel like slipping into the warmest and most comfortable bath in existence. He has no idea why.

He sighs out, propping his head up with a hand while Akechi sits and watches him, a tired yet blank slate.

"Today sucked," the younger of the two says to start their conversation. The elder smiles sympathetically.

"That's a shame. Bad day at school?"

"Crappy day at work."

"Which kind of work? I know you're busy as ever these days."

It was said teasingly, but Akira pauses, looking into Akechi's eyes. They hold no malicious intent.

"Restaurant work. The Beef Bowl Shop, to be exact."

"I see." Akechi rests his elbows on the table, finally relaxing out of his perfect posture. "You have my sympathy. Though I suppose I'm lucky, what with the job I have. There is certainly no lack of excitement."

"How'd you land that job anyway? Kinda weird for a high schooler. No offense."

"None taken," he says with a smile. "I was simply in the right place at the right time. With the right... abilities."

A vague, closed-off answer. It looks like Akira isn't going to learn the truth about that any time soon.

"Lucky guy," he mumbles, laying his head down on his crossed arms, looking sleepily at the coffee bean racks behind the counter.

"It might seem that way, but you would be surprised at how wrong you are." Akira can't see his face but hears his voice soften. Hears the faint pain in it. "I actually grew up in foster care for most of my childhood. I was an unlucky, undesirable baby."

Akira's sleepy eyes open a little wider at the sudden information. "Oh. I'm sorry. That sounds like it was rough."

"You needn't apologize. Everything worked out in the end. Everything  _will_ work out in the end..."

A chilled silence fills the room after that bitter declaration. He hears Akechi shift in his seat, but still doesn't look up, tracing his eyes over the dark brown coffee containers across the room. A part of him is afraid of what he'll see if he looks up. That he'll never be able to see Akechi as a rival of the Phantom Thieves ever again. He knows it's futile, though. They've already long since begun heading in that direction.

"I must admit, Akira," a rather sheepish voice tells him quietly, "I've been enjoying these talks of ours. I feel like I can tell you anything."

Yet you never do, Akira thinks. This is as open as he's ever been before. He never knew that Akechi had such a bad childhood. Thinking about it now, the way he lifted himself back up after that terrible period of his life... Hell, if he were a Phantom Thief, he'd fit right in. Akira huffs out a laugh at the thought.

"Hm? Is something funny?"

Akechi sounds defensive; at least he does under that poor excuse for a friendly tone. He must think Akira is laughing at what he'd just said, about feeling close enough to tell him anything. After sharing those tidbits about his childhood, he must be feeling uncomfortably vulnerable right now. Eager to clarify, Akira lifts his head and lays a hand over Akechi's in an attempt to comfort.

"No, no. I was just thinking, you remind me of my other friends. Well, your determination. Your drive to overcome the unfairness of what happened to you. It's admirable."

When the detective stays silent, Akira worries that he doesn't believe him, but, to his surprise, Akechi reaches out and lays his other hand on top of his, pale skin gentle against his own.

"Don't say that," he breathes, almost pleads, his voice as soft as Akira's ever heard it, his brown eyes downcast, his touch firm but light. He swallows audibly, his breath catching, and the other thinks he's about to cry. Akira's lips part, and he leans forward in his seat, overcome with concern, but then Akechi's hands are pushing his away, no traces of sadness left on his face.

"You shouldn't say things like that about people you don't know," he tells him, his voice still a light murmur, barely drifting across the table to reach Akira's ears.

In a desperate attempt to console him, Akira blurts out something he'd been meaning to say earlier. "I... I feel that way, too." He pauses before collecting his unsteady voice. "Like I can tell you anything."

It's half a lie. Only half. But it's what Akechi needs to hear right now. Maybe if things were different, if he wasn't a Phantom Thief and the other wasn't a detective, he  _would_ tell him everything. Anything and everything under the sun, and they'd spend all day together, maybe outdoors, maybe in his bedroom, laying side by side and sharing their hearts, feeling closer than they ever have to another human being, like it's destiny that they found each other. Like it's fate.

Akechi mumbles something that doesn't register to his ears, because he's too busy trying to shake off a wild fantasy that makes his heart feel like it's going to burst.

It hasn't been a full hour, but Akira knows when a conversation should be laid down to rest. He offers a smile that doesn't come to close to cutting through the somber air and asks Akechi if he can walk him to the train station, silently glad when he says yes.

He sees him off with a polite goodbye, Akechi waving goodbye in return. Before he can turn around, though, Akira gets his second stupidest idea of the night and weaves his arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. Akechi freezes up like a deer caught in a staring contest with a semi-truck.

"Goodnight," Akira whispers, his cheeks heating up at how this must look. An awkward, quiet hug shared by two boys in a subway. The one-sidedness of it isn't exactly helping, either. He's about to pull away when he feels a tentative pressure on his back, just below his shoulder blades.

"Night," Akechi whispers back, his voice cracking around the word like it's the last thing he'll ever say.

When they part, he turns away before Akira can see his face, but the younger boy stands there and watches him board his train, waiting until it takes off and rushes out of sight down the tunnels. He feels like his heart rushes off with it.

All the way back to Leblanc, he can't get that image out of his head. Akechi's breath fractured, his eyes sorrowful, the plea in his voice, a heavy hand resting on his own. That knowledge of him being an unwanted foster child. Begging Akira to not call him admirable...Their hang out time was supposed to be relaxing, but it turned out to be just the opposite. When he'd desired getting real emotion out of Akechi in the past, this deep, thorough pain was not what he had in mind.

His skin is still warm where Akechi had touched it. His fingers had been soft, but there was a roughness to the pads of his fingers, like he was used to working with his hands. Maybe from a manual job he'd had before his detective work. He rubs his hands together as he ascends the stairs, trying to push the thoughts from his mind.

He gets to his bedroom and changes out of his pajamas as quickly and quietly as possible, then collapses onto his covers, unaware that, on the couch, Morgana had woken up upon their arrival and heard every word that was said. Every sympathetic reassurance. Every confessed compliment.

Tired and oblivious, he never sees the way Morgana's eyes follow him closely, wide awake, tracing his path from the stairs to his bed. He never sees the utter distrust in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	5. Attic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who commented on the last chapter! I was a bit busy with work and finding time to write, but I read all your comments and loved them <3 They're excellent motivation too :D

Between infiltrating the Palace of Futaba Sakura and making a last ditch effort to raise his below-average grades, the beginning of August leaves Akira with little time for anything in between. He spends his free time mostly training and hanging out with those who possess an affinity to the Arcanas of his current Personas.

Palaces are tricky things. They seem to both eat up his life and fill him with a sense of freedom at the same time. His everyday actions are influenced by them, even outside of the Metaverse, and the pressure to succeed, this time from Medjed, is sometimes overwhelming enough to keep him up at night. But on the other hand, he loves fighting. He loves donning his Phantom Thief clothing and mask, using the strength of his heart to overcome any obstacle in his way with the help of his friends. It's a double-edged sword. A two-headed coin.

Especially when the one person he had been wanting to hang out with the most keeps getting pushed to the back burner by things more important for the current Phantom Thieves mission. And it seems this feeling is mutual.

He's sitting in class on a Friday when he gets his third text from Akechi since that morning. It's only 11:47 A.M. His phone vibrates against his thigh from within his pocket, and it brings a smile to his face because he knows exactly who it is without even having to look.

He can't really blame Akechi. They hadn't seen each other once since their nighttime talk in Leblanc, which was weeks ago by now. Akechi was as busy with his work as Akira was, but, over time, their separation just made it harder to deny that, despite Akechi pushing him away like a disease, they were both hopelessly drawn to each other.

Their texts started one-sided and joking, mostly Akira teasing him, ironically sending him good nights and good mornings, until, over the span of a week, it wasn't so ironic anymore. He didn't know when it happened, but eventually it turned into him waiting every night for the reply, laying in bed with his phone by his pillow, clutched loosely in his hand. It turned into him sending Akechi a picture of his dinner for the hell of it and getting a picture back, into wishing Akechi good luck at work and receiving a thanks and a wish for him to do his best at school in return.

Akira has no idea when, or how, or especially why, but over the course of three long weeks, without even seeing him in person, Goro Akechi manages to become one of the most important people in his life.

"Earth to Akira! Hello, spaceman?!"

He looks up from his scribbled-in notebook to Ann's bright eyes. She's turning around in her desk to face him, staring with the intensity of a scientist trying to figure out her favorite unfinished experiment.

"It's lunchtime. Didn't you hear the bell?"

He hadn't, but he doesn't say that. He just sets his pencil down and stands, waiting for Ann to do the same. Getting yakisoba pan at the shop downstairs and eating it in the courtyard with her and Ryuji is a Friday ritual for the three of them, one that they followed since Akira first started coming to this school. Sometimes Makoto joined them and sometimes she didn't, tied up with her student council work or just using the time to study.

Today he walks downstairs with Ann and sees Ryuji with an armful of only three servings, so Akira figures it will just be the original crew this time.

"What's got you so out of it, space cadet?" Ann asks him as they settle down in the grass of the courtyard.

Two girls walk close by, whispering about how slutty Ann is to spend all her time with the two biggest delinquent boys in the school. Well, whisper is an overstatement. They were obviously being loud on purpose. None of the thieves pay it any mind, aside from Ryuji who clenches his fist and glares as the girls walk past. After they see his face, they walk by a little faster.

"Is it a girl?" Ann gushes before he can answer. Ryuji whips his head up like a bomb just went off.

"You have a girlfriend and you didn't even tell me?! Bro, not cool!"

"Guys-"

"You've noticed it, haven't you?" Ann nudges Ryuji. "How this guy's been spacing out  _all_ the time recently. In the Palace, at school. He took me shopping a few days ago and almost missed our train back because he was staring at his phone the whole time!"

"Akira..." Ryuji meets his eyes with the serious look he's ever seen on the blond. "What's she look like?"

Ann nods enthusiastically, stuffing her mouth with yakisoba pan. Akira looks at the both of them leaning forward, eager for details, and knows he has to make a choice. He could tell them the truth, that there is no girl and that, all this time, he's been secretly hanging out with and texting Goro Akechi, the self-sworn enemy of the Phantom Thieves. Or... he could...

"She's a third year," he starts, looking down to his crossed legs. Ann gasps and almost chokes on her food, and Ryuji leans forward, his eyes wide. "She has brown hair and brown eyes. She's quiet, but friendly, almost too friendly sometimes. Very polite. Very charismatic. She has this side of her that she doesn't like to show to people. Something that causes her a lot of pain. She doesn't show it to anyone. But I'm trying to figure out what it is."

He trails off lamely and goes back to eating while the others are quiet, processing the information. Then Ann sighs dreamily with a smile, pressing a hand to her chest.

"Oh my god, that is so romantic..."

"Dude, you sound like you're totally in love with this chick," Ryuji whispers in disbelief.

Akira feels his face heat up against his will, but smiles and murmurs, "Ah... Do I?"

When school has ended, he leaves quickly like he usually does. During the beginning of the school year, it was more for his own sanity, what with almost every student he passed whispering about his criminal record and spreading rumors about him smoking and carrying knives. Now, however, with more exciting things like the Phantom Thieves on the news, he leaves school fast not because of rumors but because of what little free time he has left in the day.

He left Morgana at Leblanc for the cat to have some free time of his own, so he's stuck with nothing but himself and time to waste on the train ride home. He spends time reading for a while until he remembers that text he never read. He knew it. It's from Akechi.

[Akechi]: I may come to Leblanc today. 50/50 chance.

The text was sent hours ago, and it's far too late to respond now and ask for clarification. It really is a 50/50 chance whether Akechi will be there or not. Akira puts his phone away and tries to contain the thrill at the possibility. Either way, today was a Palace day. Still, he thinks, clutching his book tighter. Still...

It turns out that 50/50 are some pretty damn good odds.

Akechi is sitting at the counter in his usual seat when he walks through the door, a tailored picture of perfection. The detective says nothing, doesn't even turn to look at him, but Akira knows he has his attention from the moment he opens the door, and even as he passes behind Akechi and walks up the stairs to his bedroom. Morgana is nowhere in sight, he notices as he sets his bag down. Sojiro must have let him outside sometime during the day to roam the streets.

He walks back downstairs in a daze, wondering what he's even doing, what he's even going to say. He should be sending a message to the group chat to meet up for the Palace. He should be thinking about how much progress him and the Phantom Thieves are going to get done today. Instead, his feet carry him over to the boy at the counter, who finally turns to regard him.

"Welcome home."

Akira can't hold back a smile. "Honey, I'm home."

"You're back awfully late," Akechi jokes just as playfully, eyes sparkling with mirth. "It's been a while, hasn't it? It seems work has been swallowing us both."

Akira sits down in the seat beside him. "Seems that way."

"Coming here is always soothing for me," Akechi murmurs, though he doesn't explain why. Pausing to sip from his coffee mug, he goes on. "I hope you're finding time to relax as well."

Truth be told, Akira is wound tighter than ever with all this Medjed nonsense clinging to his back, but he just keeps his mouth shut and shrugs. Akechi raises his cup and keeps it poised at his lips, breathing in the rising steam through his nose.

"I know you are usually the one to propose such a thing," he begins, somewhat hesitantly. That's new. He usually sounds so sure of himself. "But I was wondering if you're not too busy to spare some time for me."

Well color Akira surprised. Akechi is asking  _him_ if he wants to hang out together. The few times this had happened before, getting the detective to come along had been like pulling teeth. Even so, the Palace is still on Akira's mind. He had planned to go today, but, technically, he hadn't texted anyone yet... Technically, he still has a wide-open schedule. But technically, as he's sure Morgana would point out if he were here, he's also ditching his friends and turning his back on the Phantom Thieves to go out with the one guy who wants to take them down the most.

He sighs and takes out his phone to give his hands something to fiddle with, checking for messages he hasn't received. Akechi eyes focus on the movement.

"Is something the matter?"

He looks at Akechi's face and sees neutrality, not a fake smile, not fake concern. Not anymore. Progress, he thinks. Akechi's relaxed face is the beautiful sight of progress.

Swallowing his pride, his responsibilities, and that tiny voice in his mind screaming "traitor", Akira shakes his head and lies that nothing's the matter.

Akechi smiles back and asks him where he would like to go.

* * *

They end up in his bedroom, somehow, but it's not like he meant for that to happen.

They'd wandered around Shibuya underground mall for a while, talking and window-shopping until Akira had looked over his shoulder and seen quite a large group of women, both young and older, shadowing them like an entourage of bodyguards. When he saw that some of the younger girls had their phones out, either taking pictures or videos of them together, Akira had faked a yawn and suggested they return to Leblanc for the day. He didn't spend much time online, but he knew enough about the internet to know that a video of the famous detective Akechi hanging out with a criminally-charged delinquent on probation would go viral amongst the local school kids within hours.

Then everyone would know. But, more importantly, his friends would.

So his fake yawn led him here, upstairs in Leblanc, perched on the edge of his couch while Akechi strolled around the drab room, examining things. Right, Akira reminds himself. The guy's a goddamn detective investigating the Phantom Thieves. Smart move bringing him here.

Akechi takes particular interest in his workbench in the corner, for obvious reasons, but Akira just makes up something about liking to take old computers apart. Akechi nods in response, seemingly ignoring the fact that Akira doesn't have a single piece of modern technology in the room aside from his old TV, DVD player, and game console.

He's still pacing, making Akira nervous just from watching him, so the Phantom Thief stands and walks over to what caught his attention this time. It's the ramen bowl that Ryuji got for him long ago. He smiles at the sight of it, at the memories.

"Interesting decoration," Akechi comments, peering at it more closely. Akira wonders what he's looking for. Fingerprints? Blood splatter? A Phantom Thieves logo?

"I've got some interesting friends."

"Oh. A gift from a friend?" Akechi hums thoughtfully, raising a hand to his chin. "Your group of friends  _is_ rather interesting. I would like to meet them properly someday."

And they would hate to meet you, Akira thinks. He crosses his arms, gazing out the small window over Akechi's shoulder. "Maybe one day."

"I can't help but notice that you seem distracted." Akechi shifts his focus from the bowl to Akira's face, examining it just as thoroughly. Akira gets the urge to take a step back, but doesn't. "Is something on your mind?"

"Just..." Medjed. Tests and exams. Bailing on his friends and the Palace. Hoping Morgana can find his way home tonight. Trying to keep this... whatever this is with Akechi a secret. Medjed. Exams. Betrayal. Futaba. Medjed. Exams. Betrayal.

"I missed you," he blurts out, and a heavy wave of embarrassment crashes into him as soon at the words come out of his mouth. But it does its job. It derails Akechi from his line of questioning.

The detective's face becomes blank, his eyebrows raising in surprise. Then he laughs quietly, looking back to the ramen bowl and falling silent. Akira would bet it's because he doesn't know what to say. What would  _he_ say, if Akechi suddenly blurted out that he missed him? He'd probably break eye contact as soon as possible and mutter something like thanks or oh, is that so.

Akechi isn't him, however. The detective meets his eyes again and gives him a light smile.

"I must admit, I feel the same way."

A part of Akira hopes that he's lying. A much bigger part hopes that he's not.

"It's the oddest thing," he continues. "I don't even know you that well, but I feel as if..." He stops. Looks away. "I feel as if, somehow, my life has been changed forever just from meeting you..."

"Let's hope that it's a change for the better," he half-jokes.

"I suppose we'll see. In time," Akechi whispers, his smile falling. Akira narrows his eyes at the serious expression that takes its place.

He's suddenly painfully aware that there is no door to this room. That anyone could walk in at any time and see him standing close to Akechi and talking quietly, like two conspirators sharing secrets. He looks over his shoulder towards the stairs, just to check, but something soft and warm touches his right hand.

Akechi's fingertips are trailing over his hand, examining a faint scar that stretches from his pinky all the way across the back of his hand to his wrist. A painful scar he got on the very first day he awakened his Persona, before he knew how to fight and properly defend himself. He's uncrossing his arms and offering his hand to the other before he realizes what he's doing.

"This looks like it hurt," Akechi sympathizes, running his thumb along it. His touch is feather light, as if he's afraid that anything more will reopen the months-old wound. "From a fight? Could you really be the delinquent that people say you are?"

"You're the detective."

"Well, we're alone in your room and you haven't tried to bribe me or beat me yet, so I think I can take that as a good sign."

"Beat you? People have tried to do that before?"

Akechi smiles at him. "The world is full of terrible people."

He frowns at that smile, at that somber acceptance in his tone. Why Akechi is so guarded, so prone to hiding what he truly feels. He's been hurt by adults in the past. Terribly so.

Akira turns his hand over and catches the other boy's, gripping it in his own. Emboldened by anger, injustice, everything that made him become a Phantom Thief in the first place, he leans closer and holds Akechi's hand tighter, watching his brown eyes widen.

"Goro..."

"Again?!"

The sound of Morgana's voice makes him flinch, letting Akechi's hand slip from his own. There's nothing he can say in response to his roommate. Around others, he's supposed to just be a normal cat.

"Seriously?! What is  _he_ doing here?" Morgana cries, outraged, but Akira ignores him, turning back to his guest. Akechi's eyes are still on him, paying Morgana no more attention than one would a wandering, meowing cat.

"Yes, Akira?" he asks, his gaze pushing Akira to go on and finish his sentence.

"It's getting stuffy in here. Wanna head outside for some air?"

For some reason, Akechi looks down to Morgana and doesn't respond, so Akira takes his hand again and leads him downstairs. He's grateful when Morgana doesn't follow them down. Even Sojiro looks at them funny when they walk to the front door together, as if Akira isn't allow to be friends with someone like Akechi. It's like the very universe is trying its hardest to keep them apart. Well, eff the universe, Akira thinks in a selfish fit of rebellion, holding Akechi's hand tighter. He feels a soft squeeze in return.

"I don't think your cat likes me very much."

Akira freezes just as they step outside, looking back in surprise. Can he really...?

"It was just short of hissing when it saw me," the older boy explains, smiling. "I've never really been a cat person. Maybe it could tell?"

He laughs softly while Akira forces himself to take a deep breath and relax. He lets go of Akechi's hand and puts his own in his pockets to keep from fidgeting.

"Yeah, he's, uh, emotional sometimes," he mumbles.

"That aside, earlier you said my name but stopped. What were you saying, Akira? "

What  _had_ he been about to say? That was after Akechi had smiled and said something about the world being full of terrible people. Looking back now, Akira has no idea what he could have said. Maybe something about how Akechi isn't one of them. Something about people like Akechi making the world a better place. The words feel sour in his mouth now, though. He can't say them.

"Who knows?" he asks with a smile and a shrug.

Akechi smiles back, looks down, and shakes his head. "You're just full of surprises..."

He leaves soon after with some reluctance, admitting that he hadn't had that much fun with his free time in ages and that he's happy he could share it with Akira, who waves goodbye and tries to ignore the funny thing those words do to his chest.

Ryuji's statement from earlier in the day echoes through his head, as much as he tries to ignore it. "Totally in love"? Leaning back against the side of the building, he takes another deep breath and closes his eyes.

The only thing waiting for him back in his room is an angry cat and a verbal beat down.

"Seriously." Akira crosses the room and sits down on his bed, avoiding Morgana's gaze. "You know what he's doing right?" He doesn't respond. "He's  _using_ you to get closer to the Phantom Thieves!"

As Akira clicks the TV on for some background noise, Morgana continues.

"He could hear my voice that one time! He knows what we are! He's using you and you're  _falling_ for it!"

On TV, Akechi's smile widens. Another one of his interviews is on.

"Are you listening to me? Akira, you're our leader... I don't know if he knows that or not, but he's obviously trying to get close to you. Of all people, you can't fall for this! You can't start to believe he wants to do anything but hurt you!" Akira flinches but stays silent. "Can you at least promise me that? That you'll keep your guard up around that guy?"

He stares into Akechi's eyes on the TV screen. Before the program cuts to a commercial, the beautiful detective prince looks directly into the camera and smiles pleasantly as girls clap and cheer in the background.

"Yes," he lies to Morgana, staring back into those pretty brown eyes. "I promise."


	6. Movie Theater in Yongen-Jaya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with the P5 what-could-have-beens <3

When Goro invites Akira out to a movie on a Saturday night, for the first time in a long time, the thief considers turning him down.

They're closer than they've ever been now; something tells him too close, but also not close enough. So the reason he's staring down at his phone on this cool Saturday evening, perched on the edge of his bed, is not because he doesn't have the spare time, but because of the specific way the particular request was worded.

He blinks down at the string of texts, not sure what to think anymore.

[Akechi]: Hey.  
[Akechi]: Want to go out with me?  
[Akechi]: I heard there's a new crime drama out in theaters.  
[Akechi]: I know; typical of me to be interested in something like that. But I'm in the area and have free time.  
[Akechi]: Let me know soon.

That poorly-worded second message is the culprit.

Surely Goro isn't oblivious to it. The guy is a detective at the age of 17, a nation-wide proclaimed genius, and although he may not get much interaction with other teens his age, it doesn't take much to recognize the implications not only of his wording, but also of his request.

Haru Okumura wants to come over for his opinion on her food, Ann is practically begging him to go shopping with her, and Makoto has been suggesting they studying together for at least a week now. In the midst of all these beautiful girls, both inside and out, Akira has ignored them and managed to brush them off not because they're undesirable to him, but all because he can't stop thinking about Goro freakin' Akechi.

It's more likely that he's imagining it than Goro is actually flirting with him, but there are countless memories of old texts subtly hinting at things Akira promised himself he wouldn't even dream about - Akira, I miss seeing you, I hope I can find time for you soon, we spoke in the cafe today but I feel it's not enough, I feel so close to you, it must be fate, tell me when you're free again, okay?

He doesn't know if he's the stupidest guy on Earth, but he certainly feels like it. Especially times like now, when he's getting all worked up over a celebrity detective asking him if he wants to go to the movies together. It's just Goro Akechi, he tells himself, but somehow that doesn't mean much anymore. Somehow that's more complicated than it's ever been.

Either way, he caves like he always does, sending a message and regretting it the very next second.

[Akira]: Wait for me.

[Akechi]: Of course. Looking forward to it.

Morgana wanders off, a newfound declaration of resistance when he suspects Akira is spending time with Akechi. He doesn't ask anymore, but Akira tells him anyway out of respect. Today, his resistance is an eye roll and a dismissive flick of the tail as he turns away and wanders off down the street. Akira stands outside of Leblanc and watches him go, wondering if there will ever be a compromise to this mess. It's a foolish thought, but it doesn't hurt to be optimistic.

What does hurt is something in his chest when he sees Goro Akechi waiting for him outside the nearby theater in a black turtleneck and jeans. His hands are resting on the handlebars of a light blue bicycle. Akira smiles and waves, hoping that's enough to mask how he's staring at the new outfit. One would think Goro showered and slept in his peacoat and slacks, but recently he must feel comfortable enough to break that image of perfection and dress more casually. Comfortable enough around Akira at least.

"Hey. Sorry to make you wait."

"Please, think nothing of it." Goro flashes a smile, walking his bike over the nearest railing by the sidewalk. "Sorry to spring plans on you out of nowhere. The principal at your school... The nature of his death was incredibly disturbing. I thought you might need something to take your mind off of it."

Right, that. The reminder of recent events brings with it a flood of dread and crushing responsibility. Haru Okumura, her dead father, this black-masked phantom, the mental shutdowns, the police investigation.

"I can't say I was close to him, but you're right about it being disturbing. Thanks for thinking of me."

"How could I not?" Goro smiles and meets his eyes when he says that, intense and captivating. Akira is struck suddenly the urge to take a step closer and do something stupid.

"You biked over here?" he asks instead. Akechi finishes securing his bike to the railing before he responds.

"I was simply out cycling when I made the decision to come here. It was a pain to fit on the subway... Haha."

"You'd go through all that trouble just to see me?"

"Hey, you're the one who has a knack for attracting trouble," Goro teases with a glint in his eyes. "Though, I do apologize that my foolish choices have made you come out here today."

"What makes you think you can make me to do anything?"

He gets the desired response: Akechi's smile widens and gives birth to a smirk. He doesn't have an explanation for the pleasure it gives him, nor why he even desired it in the first place.

"Why would I have to make you when you would willing do it yourself?" Goro murmurs around his smirk. The implied power in that question burrows into Akira's mind until he's repeated it in his head at least ten times within a few seconds.

They linger outside and chat some more, about school, about work, about friends. About anything. When Akira can't help but compliment him on his sweater, Goro smiles and shrugs, holding out an arm. The long sleeves pass his knuckles, leaving only his fingers visible, and although Akira has heard that's a cute thing on girls, he's never really thought it was especially endearing until this moment. He indulgently reaches out and runs a hand from his elbow to his wrist, pretending to care about the soft material its made of.

"It was a gift," Goro tells him, watching his hand's journey. An expression passes over his face that is bitter and somber, so Akira snags the end of his sleeve, holds it open, and slips his other hand inside. Akechi gasps at the cold fingers on his bare wrist.

"It's soft," is all Akira says.

Goro scoffs and shakes his hand out.

The theater is mostly empty with couples and a few singles scattered here and there. Goro leads him to the middle aisle, a comfortable distance from others, and Akira follows through the dark, wondering why this feels more like a date to him than when he took Ann arm in arm to see a romantic comedy together. She had cried at the ending and pressed her face against his shoulder to dry her tears.

This new crime drama is average at best, but maybe that's because Akira is more focused on the boy beside him than the men on the screen. The gist of the plot, he gathers, is that the main character, a young man fresh on the cop force, lost his father to gun violence as a child and thus spent years of his life studying and training in order to avenge him. The movie ends with him staring into the face of his father's killer as he is justly convicted and carted off to jail, though there's a frown on the main character's face, implying the hard-fought victory in his wild chase for revenge did nothing to ease the pain he felt all those years.

Goro is very still beside him during the credits, even as people stand and file out on either side of them. Akira sits patiently through them as well, figuring he's just the type of person to appreciate the actors and staff who worked on the film. However, when the screen goes dark and the room brightens, Goro still remains motionless. A worker enters from the back and begins to sweep up spilled popcorn.

"That was some heavy stuff, huh?" Akira breaks the silence, standing and stretching his legs. "Wasn't as bad as I expected, though."

Goro just licks his lips, looks up with wide eyes, and nods.

It was heavy, especially so. The intention was to distract from the recent deaths and horrible incidents going on in real life, but this seemed to be the worst kind of film for the job. Goro works closely with crime like this everyday, so it's a mystery to Akira why he would also seek it out in his leisure.

A mixture of impulse and concern guides his hand to Goro's wrist, pulling him to his feet and towards the exit. The detective doesn't resist, and once they're outside, Akira stops, turns to him, scans his pensive face, and really, really wants to do something stupid again.

"Do you think," the detective asks abruptly, avoiding his gaze, "it was possible for him to ever truly get revenge?"

There are a few moments of silence before Akira realizes that he's referring the movie.

"Well... Revenge was his problem in the first place, I think. The message was that he shouldn't have let it control his life. I think that's what his father would have wanted, anyway."

Goro clenches his jaw and huffs out something that's less a sigh and more a sudden exhalation of breath.

"To each his own," he declares with finality, pulling his arm away from Akira.

The younger puts his hands in his pockets, glancing to the few couples coming and going around them. He wants to push at that oddly emotional response, desperately so, but memories of the outburst in Inokashira Park come to mind. Even so, perhaps disturbingly, the very thought of Goro Akechi glaring at him and screaming in his face makes him want to push as hard as he can, even if it kills him.

He takes a deep breath and lets it slip out as a stream of white mist in the cool evening air.

"That character was blind." He dares to look Akechi provokingly in the eyes. "By the end, the revenge he got wasn't even worth it."

Goro swallows hard. Akira can see his Adam's apple bob. "I'd say that is up to interpretation."

"He wasn't happy or relieved. If anything, revenge only brought him more pain. In the end, he sacrificed his life, his career, his free time all to catch this one man. I'd say, in a way, when his father died, a part of him died with him."

"What would you even know about that...?" It's a growl masquerading as a whisper. Finally, Akechi is glaring. His eyebrows are knit, his fists are clenched at his sides. If such raw emotion was a hornet's nest, Akira not only wants to prod it, but rip it down and crack it open to bear what lies deep inside.

"And what would  _you_ know about it?" he challenges, not backing down. When Akechi doesn't answer, he tries his first attempt at smashing the nest. "Does this remind you of a case you've worked on? Is that it?"

"It's..." He stops, his breath catching in his throat.

It's common knowledge that Akechi was a parent-less orphan as a child before he worked his way up to being the flawless detective prince he is today. Girls often brag about it in public and online, like Akechi's struggles somehow make him more desirable as a partner. Like they're craving a chance to get close enough to 'fix' him. As soon as Akira remembers it, realizes that it's the most likely cause of this sudden anger, he's torn between feeling like a jerk for pushing and wanting to ignore that guilt to push even more.

His indecision brings the conversation to a lull, however, and Akechi snatches the opportunity to gain control of it again.

"Anyways." He smiles beautifully, no longer glaring, at least on the outside. If only the tension still straining between them was as easy to get rid of. "Thank you again for humoring my selfish request on such short notice."

"Of course," Akira mumbles, mind still wrapped like a snake around that peculiar response to the movie. Something inside him aches to find an answer.

He savors a chance to break away and glance over his shoulder at the expanse of the back streets, but what he sees there thoroughly surprises him. A familiar girl is bundled up in her puffy winter jacket, her pink skirt swaying around her white stockings. That cute face lights up as soon as their eyes meet. He hasn't the slightest clue what Haru is doing around the theater closest to Leblanc at this hour, but she's holding her school bag at her side even though she has changed out of her uniform. Akira's fingers itch to check his phone and see if he missed a group message or something during the movie.

"Akira!" she waves, quickening her pace to a jog. That bright smile falters when she sees the detective, though obviously is corrected and glued into place to avoid confrontation.

"Okumura-san, right?" Goro greets, suddenly the poster child of polite and respectful. He bows, and Haru gives a shaky smile in return. "As one of the professionals assigned to the mental shutdown cases, I would like to personally give my condolences to your father's passing. Please rest assured that we are doing everything we can to solve this case as quickly as possible given the circumstances."

She is notably flustered at the grand declaration and probably at the very sight of Akechi himself out of uniform and standing close to her Phantom Thief leader on a Saturday afternoon. She glances from him to Goro then back again, so Akira steps beside her and nods in her place to smooth things along.

"That's kind of you. In regards to her father, someone will get to the bottom of it soon. I'm sure of it."

The double meaning in his words is aimed to spurn her out of her daze. Akira nearly breathes a sigh of relief when it works, when she nods with newfound resolve, her hair bouncing against her fluffy white collar.

"Right... I'm sure of it, too." She faces her leader, holding her schoolbag in both hands against the front of her skirt. "Were you two watching a movie here? I didn't know you were friends."

"Funny you should mention that, Okumura-san," Goro steps in before Akira can open his mouth. "I wasn't aware you were acquainted with him, either."

"Haru-senpai, did you come here to see me?" Akira interrupts. Again, that unshakable feeling of cheating on someone. On who, he isn't sure, but the knowledge or lack thereof doesn't make the feeling any less poignant.

"No, I came over to watch an anime with Futaba. We were going to ask you if you wanted to join, but Sojiro-san said you went out."

It's frustrating that if he were seeing a movie with any other person outside the Phantom Thieves, he wouldn't feel nearly this bad about it. Takemi, Ohya, Mishima. Anyone but Goro Akechi. That's what he saw in Haru's faltering smile when she first ran up to them.

'Anyone but Goro Akechi.'

"It's fine," Haru reassures, though he never apologized in the first place, let alone spoke a word. "I hope you had fun! I just wanted to say hi. And it was nice finally meeting you, Akechi-kun."

"Likewise," Goro smiles pleasantly back. "I hope we find an opportunity to speak again in the future."

Haru leaves shortly after, but it's a shame she doesn't take the lingering awkwardness with her. It stays with the two boys until Goro has stared at Akira's face longer than he can bear.

"What?" he snaps, harsher than intended, though nothing about Akechi even shows a sign of flinching.

"It's just that you have so many nice friends around you. I'm envious."

The intense scrutiny in the detective's eyes reveals where his real focus lies. They've spoken about it as a group countless times. They're not stupid. All the victims of recent changes of heart huddling together like stray kittens in the cold is so suspicious that it's impossible to not notice. The confirmation that Haru Okumura is now among them must be a clue that Goro is sinking his teeth into and savoring if those sharp eyes are anything to judge by. He's not even bothering to hide it.

"C'mon," Akira mumbles, turning and leading them towards Leblanc on a whim. Akechi glances back to his chained up bike before leaving it and following behind.

They're inside his room again before he knows it. Goro is sitting on the edge of his bed, just as Akira sat when he was staring at those text messages and deciding whether to respond or not. Is this how easy it's going to be? He just has to say yes, and he has Goro in his room, on his bed- His cheeks grow warm at the direction his mind takes. He lingers by the sofa, unable to sit down.

"How have things been?" Akechi asks. His legs are crossed at the ankle, fingers playing with the long sleeves of his sweater. It's a pointless question. He already knows, because they text about it every night before they go to bed.

"Confusing," Akira says, staring at his I <3 Tokyo shirt. It's untouched, still hanging up exactly where Futaba put it.

"Care to share?"

"Not until you do."

Goro smiles. Akira's not looking at his face, but he knows he smiles anyway. It's what he would do in this situation if he were hiding something. But, he reminds himself, he  _is_ hiding something. So why isn't he able to smile his way out of honest answers as easily as Akechi does?

He closes his eyes, feeling like if this were a game, he's just lost it.

"I must say again that I'm sorry for dragging you out like that. I know things are getting more-"

"Stop apologizing."

Once again, it's harsher than intended, though given his frustration maybe it's just harsh enough.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He crosses the room, stops just shy of standing around Akechi's crossed legs. "Stop apologizing."

Goro simply blinks in response, his surprise evident.

'I shouldn't have to feel ashamed of spending time with you.' Akira grits his teeth, eyes focused on the snug collar of Goro's sweater. 'I shouldn't have to feel ashamed of being your friend. It shouldn't have to be like this. We shouldn't be enemies.  _Why_ is it like this no matter what I do? How can I make you-'

"Akira...?"

It's not a desire to show his feelings that makes him do it. It's not love; not anything close to it, and he knows that. It's not his pretty smiles, his messy brown hair, how his sweater makes his fingers look small and cute. It's nothing so soft, so gentle or affectionate.

It's pure rebellion. It's defiance. It's the world grabbing him by the shoulders and ordering 'anyone but Goro Akechi' and him with a smirk answering 'just try and stop me'.

Contrary to Arsene, this time his rebellious nature takes form in plopping down beside Akechi on his bed and letting himself do something stupid.

Goro's mouth is soft, retaining a faint gloss of lip balm, not anything like Akira's own winter-chapped lips. He smells like lavender shampoo and something indefinable. His bicep is both squishy and lean under Akira's hand. He's hit with the faint yet heavy realization that nothing he can do or say will ever take this back. It's dizzying and powerful, so he tries to ground himself in the pain of Akechi squeezing his hand so tight he fears his nails are going to break the skin.

It's more a peck than anything, but by the time he leans back, Goro's hand is shaking. Akira can feel it in his own.

Slowly, Goro raises an index finger to his own lips and presses it there as if in replication.

"Really?" he whispers against the pad of his finger, a question that leaves Akira gripping his hand and searching his face for the answer. He finds none in those brown eyes. Like always, they hide what truly lies within Goro Akechi's untouchable heart.

"Sorry." That was his first kiss. He'd ask Akechi if that was his first as well if he didn't think the answer would be a complete lie.

"An apology?" The prince's voice is muffled. He's still holding a hand to his mouth. "Wasn't it your order to not give those anymore?"

"But you're shaking. I'm sorry."

Akechi's hand in his is indeed shaking along with the one at his mouth. His eyes are guarded, but wide. Vulnerable. Akira wonders if he kissed him again, would he break like the yolk of an egg and melt between his fingertips? He used to think it was impossible to get this close, and yet here they are.

He knew in his gut that he should have turned down the request to hang out with him when he still had the chance.

He couldn't possibly heed Morgana's warnings now even if he wanted to. Not because of the first kiss; they could have brushed it off as poor judgement, agreed to never speak of it again, but because Akechi is moving his hand away from his mouth and gazing into Akira's eyes like they hold the answers to life and death. Because his lips are parting, he's scooting closer, pressing the sides of their legs together. Holding Akira's hand tight.

Because he's asking gently under his breath, "Can you do it again?"

Almost like it was all an act. Almost like he knows Akira won't say no.


	7. Akihabara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy so many liked the last chapter <3

He looks good in his outfit.

More than that, he looks angelic.

Pristine in white with red accents and gold pauldrons, slick, princely, and form-fitting. Even his Persona stands tall and regal behind him with a golden bow and arrows that strike without mercy. From head to toe, he is an image of divine justice with a code name that contradicts it all.

It's a white suit, really nothing special, but Akira finds he can't look away.

A few days ago, Akechi cornered them at the school festival, confronted their secret identities, and forced his way into their ranks. A few days ago, they staked out the location of Sae Niijima's Palace with Akechi by their side and made a plan to steal its treasure. And, a few days ago, Futaba snatched his phone and planted a bug there without his knowledge to confirm or deny the group's suspicions of him. She's said there's no evidence so far of any incriminating calls, but to still keep their guard up. For everyone's sake, Akira keeps his own thoughts on the matter to himself.

It's only their second time in the Palace, their second time fighting with Akechi on their team, and in the glitter of the casino, under the shining and blinking lights, Akira has been watching their new teammate close enough to get hit by attacks that should have been second nature to dodge. Though it's not his fault that Goro keeps catching his gaze and holding it even in the midst of battle.

"Hey." Futaba corners him while the others roam the casino hall searching for Shadows, stuck close together in a pack like wolves. "Are you feeling okay?"

If Akira were being honest, he would say no, but he's found honesty less often to come by these days. So he smiles and nods instead. The thought doesn't even cross his mind that that's exactly what Goro Akechi would have done.

"Just getting used to the new team."

Said new team has finally cleared the entire hall of Shadows and is resting against the planters near the large elevator in the center of the room. Ann is healing Haru and Ryuji while Makoto, Yusuke, and Akechi stand by and chat together. Morgana has hopped up onto the planter, watching Akira and Futaba across the room.

"Kay," Futaba relents, though the tone of her voice conveys it's anything but okay. "Just be careful. If our leader goes down then it's game over! Well, ya know, we'll carry you to the safe room and everything, but if this were a video game, it'd be game over, man!"

Akira shakes his head and smiles to satisfy her, eyes still focused on Akechi. Futaba's concerns aren't misplaced, but all he can wonder is if anyone else notices how Goro glows like a hero under the twinkling lights.

The image follows him when they wrap up and leave the Palace for the day. They split with muttered goodbyes and half-hearted waves in the station, weary yet bright-eyed. Relaxed yet on edge. Akira walks Futaba home while Morgana trails behind, but when they arrive at her and Sojiro's house, the cat mutters something about wanting a nap and follows her inside.

Akira knows it's nothing personal, but it's still hard not to feel rejected. They'll have to have a talk soon, Morgana and him. He doesn't have a clue how to bring that up. He trudges up the stairs and collapses into bed, savoring a few minutes of blissful silence before his cell phone vibrates in his pants pocket.

[Ryuji]: Yo, we all feelin okay?

[Futaba]: Why? U pull something, old man?

[Ryuji]: Wtf I'm not even that much older than you!  
[Ryuji]: Anyway, I'm askin cause this is still first for some people, ya know?

[Yusuke]: I am well. Thank you for asking.

[Ryuji]: Not you, smart ass...

[Yusuke]: Rude.

[Akechi]: Today was truly one surprise after another. There is no doubt that we will mutually thrive from this arrangement. I hope I can only be of more help to you all in the future.

[Makoto]: You were a gbig help, Akechi.  
[Makoto]: *big

[Futaba]: Yeah, thanks for being such a gbig help, Akechi. ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[Akechi]: ^^;

[Futaba]: CUUUUUUTE.

[Yusuke]: Feel free to ignore her.

[Futaba]: ^^^^^ NOT CUTE.

[Ryuji]: Yeah well, we'll see about that...

[Yusuke]: ...We'll see about me being cute or not?  
[Yusuke]: What exactly are you

[Ryuji]: No, Akechi being a big help or not.

[Yusuke]: trying to prove, Ryuji?

[Futaba]: *gbig

[Ryuji]: WELL THAT'S THAT, GOODNIGHT ALL.

[Haru]: Hehe.

[Futaba]: Hehe seconded.

[Ann]: GOODNIGHT RYUJI. SEE YA WHEN WE SEE YA. GOODNIGHT, SLEEP TIGHT, DON'T LET THE BED BUGS BITE.

[Yusuke]: My word.

[Makoto]: Cease this at once.

[Ann]: Yes, ma'am.

[Makoto]: <3

[Haru]: Hehehe.

[Futaba]: Hehehe seconded.

Akira rolls onto his stomach and smiles down at the messages. He wishes this could last forever, though something tells him it won't. The others will never truly accept Akechi, though they still don't know the extent of his reasons nor how he plans to betray them. Perhaps he's being forced by a corrupt adult, blackmailed or harassed to take down the Phantom Thieves for them. Perhaps he's being used. After all, he wouldn't even be able to use a Persona if his own heart wasn't pure at its core. Persona users can't have Palaces.

As if to interrupt his thoughts, his phone vibrates again. This time when he picks it up, there are no new messages in the group chat, only Goro Akechi's icon large in the center of the screen with accept and cancel buttons beneath it. He stares at the green phone icon with his finger just shy of tapping it.

The last time they spoke one-on-one, the night ended with Goro almost on his lap in his bedroom. Ever since the school festival, it's been group meetings, group chats, and time with the others in the Palace and Mementos. He doesn't know if he's been avoiding Akechi or if the detective's been avoiding him, but there hasn't been a better opportunity to find out than the one that's glowing on his phone right now.

He takes a breath and taps the screen.

"Hello?" Goro's voice is quiet and hesitant. There's a soft ruffling of fabric on his end. Akira has a hard time not picturing the older boy in pajamas, maybe an old shirt and pair of sweatpants, laying on his bed just as he is.

"Yes?"

"I've been meaning to apologize for being dishonest with you."

"About...?"

"The recent acquisition of my Persona."

But even that is being dishonest. Morgana has presented undeniable evidence that Akechi had a Persona well before only a month ago. He can't remember the details; only something to do with Morgana saying pancakes and Akechi repeating what he'd heard.

"Can you tell me something?" He rolls onto his back. Goro shifts as well from the sound of it, grunting a little breathy noise into the phone. Akira almost loses his train of thought when he hears it. "I, uh... want to ask. Are you sure your Persona hasn't been around earlier?"

"I've only been aware of Robin Hood for a month now."

"Nothing before then?"

The other end of the line falls silent. Goro breathes gently into the phone before answering, "No."

"Honestly?" He pushes, and once again, Goro is silent while Akira feels a sickness settle in his stomach. He's lying... Thankfully instead of spouting another fabrication, the older boy just sighs this time. It's long and drawn out, and Akira closes his eyes and imagines it's right by his ear.

"Can we meet up somewhere and talk in person? I must admit I'm rather tired from today. If you're free tomorrow, I've been meaning to head to Akihabara for a new phone. Would you mind accompanying me, or do you hate me now?"

Akira's heart nearly stops mid-beat. _A new phone_...? He ends up gasping before he can stop himself, and Akechi rushes to ask if he's okay or if he's choking. Goro using his current phone or switching to a new one could mean Futaba's bug would have been for nothing. Although Akira wasn't on board with it to begin with, if Akechi is planning something or being used by someone in the shadows, keeping that bug on his phone is the possibly  _only_ way to find out.

"N-no, I'll go with you," he blurts out, breathless.

Goro must think he's being bashful. He chuckles in response and says that he can't wait.

* * *

"If you're heading out with him, at least try to ask about his work. If you can get the names of some of the adults he's conspiring with, it could help us a lot in the long run," Morgana reminds him as he pulls on a dark blue sweater the next day, getting ready to leave Leblanc.

He nods, fighting the urge to deny the implication that Akechi is going to turn on them. It's a possibility, but they don't know it for sure. Is he really the only one on Goro's side? The only one willing to listen? Though Morgana is finally convinced Goro isn't working alone, so that's something at least.

"I'll try," he mutters, slipping his shoes on. Morgana walks over and sits beside his foot, gazing up with thoughtful eyes.

"Hey... are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I feel like you hate me!" He looks up from his shoelaces to Morgana's bright blue eyes before glancing away again. "I'm trying my best to understand how you feel, you know... If Lady Ann were acting this sketchy, I'd be defensive about it, too."

"You think that you're in love with Ann. I'm not in love with Goro."

"Yet you're the only one of us who calls him that."

"I'll ask about his work," Akira states, pushing himself to his feet, "and I don't hate you, Morgana."

Morgana sighs at him so obviously avoiding the subject and walks back to his bed with his ears drooping.

What he doesn't tell Morgana and will not tell any of the others is that he hasn't given up yet nor will he ever. He knows there is something beyond Goro influencing his actions. There must be. Not every moment they spent together thus far was a lie. The enhanced power of his Justice Personas is proof enough of that.

He could hear it in Goro's voice when he got too emotional or openly laughed with no reservation. He could see the genuine glow of excitement when they hung out after a long and tiring day. He could feel it in the firm press of his lips, the desire to be kissed more than just once. He knows at least some of it was real.

And even if it wasn't, a rebellious spark like the one within his heart cannot be snuffed out so easily.

He bounds down the stairs and out of Leblanc, reminding himself what the real mission of this trip is: to keep Goro from purchasing a new phone. In case the detective is already in Akihabara browsing new products, Akira stops outside and snaps a photo of his shoes on the pavement, both to let Goro know he's leaving and to distract him if at all possible.

As he's walking to the station, he receives a photo back of Goro's brown dress shoes against a thick white stripe and realizes that it's the stripe of a crosswalk. Goro must have waited until the light changed then, even in the large crowd of people rushing around Akihabara, stopped in the middle of the road to take a picture of his shoes for Akira.

Okay, he thinks, boarding his train, he'll let Morgana have that one. He may not be in love with Goro Akechi, but he definitely is fond of him. Love just seems like such a strong word for someone he apparently doesn't know.

He makes it to Akihabara and meets Goro outside of the electronics store he likes to take Futaba to. It's as busy as ever. The detective is wearing his usual outfit, nothing too special, which disappoints Akira more than he would like to admit.

"I'm glad you're doing well, leader," he winks, leaning by the side of the entrance. A group of teenage girls exiting the store and not-so-subtly staring at him all gasp and squeal, clinging to each others arms. Akira sighs.

"Can we head somewhere more private and talk?"

"Why do you think I asked you to come here?" Goro grabs his hand then walks into the store. He could pull away - they're in public after all - but he holds back tight and follows.

They do a few laps around the computer section together hand-in-hand while Goro asks him this or that about a few high tech computers on display. Right, Akira reminds himself, he told Akechi that he uses the workbench in his room for computers. He actually doesn't know more than any average teen his age, though, so he can't follow fast enough when they finally move on and wander towards the phone displays.

The store is a mess of people like it always is: mostly teens, kids just off from school and still in their uniforms, adult gamers, and tech junkies roaming the aisles for new equipment. As Futaba once told him, it would be a store made of dreams if there were half the amount of people and twice the amount of walking space. He sticks close as Goro drags him along by the hand through a throng of people crowding the long phone aisle.

The detective examines a few smartphones through the protective glass they're encased in with the eye of only a window shopper, much to Akira's relief. Despite what he said earlier on the phone, he doesn't show much interest in actually buying one.

"Goro," Akira tries to get his attention, to direct him back to that talk they're supposed to be having.

"Wait." He pulls his hand away, looks around. "I have to use the restroom quickly. Stay put and don't get lost in the crowd."

He has no choice but to plant his feet and watch Goro snake his way through the gathering of people and disappear around the corner of the aisle. He stands by and taps a foot, about to pull his phone out for something to do when a hand on his shoulder nearly scares the life out of him.

"I know he's helpin' us with the Palace and all that crap, but, uh, aren't you takin' the appreciation kinda far, bro?"

"Ryuji..." he sighs out, telling his body to relax. He had almost entered a battle stance on instinct. Getting ambushed in Palaces and being beaten within an inch of his life has made him jumpy it seems.

Ryuji's in a black hoodie one size too big with the hood up, tips of blond hair poking out from beneath. He must have seen him and Goro holding hands through the store. The valid excuses for two teenage boys doing that are close to none, especially so when one of the boys is supposed to be their enemy. So instead of excuses, Akira reaches out and grabs his hand as well, entwining their fingers.

"What? You don't wanna hold my hand, too?"

"D-Dude...!" The blond attempts to yank his hand free, his hood falling back with the movement, but grumbles after it refuses to budge and lets Akira keep it. "What are you guys even doing here?" he demands with a pout that's just too perfect to not tease more. Akira gives his hand a squeeze, chuckling when the pout deepens. "Ugh... Akira, for real, I'm not effin' around!"

"Me neither, bestie," he mumbles in fake offense. Ryuji's groan is loud enough to make everyone in the aisle look over to them.

"Am I interrupting something?" It's Goro's voice, barely reaching them as he weaves around a group of high school boys still staring at the pair. Ryuji flinches and tries to shake off Akira's hand, but the other boy is so focused on Akechi that he won't let go.

"I'm cheating on you," Akira tells him with a straight face, delighted when Ryuji chokes on his own air and Akechi hums in thought. He's always had a preference for dry humor. It's nice to have someone to bounce it off of.

"What?!"

"Well," Goro plays along with a sad shake of his head, "I wish you two the best then."

"Don't encourage him!"

They're told to leave from a worker nearby for causing a scene, though the real fault rests with the young women around them that were staring with blushes and clogging up the aisles. Akira will have to thank Ryuji later for accomplishing his goal: Akechi, at least for today, will not be getting a new phone.

They stand in a circle outside on the street corner like a couple of delinquents, huddled closer than normal from the chill in the air. Goro stares down at the pavement and wears a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. This isn't one of his people-pleasing smiles; he's genuinely having fun right now.

"Why you'd come all the way out here?" Akira asks, nudging Ryuji with an elbow. The blond bristles and rubs his nose with the back of his hand.

"Could ask you the same, you know... Anyway, my headphones broke and I was bored. Figured I could make the trip. Now tell me what the hell you guys are doin' here."

"Window-shopping," Akira answers for the both of them. Goro looks up but doesn't disagree.

They head back to Leblanc together just for the hell of out and end up playing video games in Akira's room. There are only two controllers so Goro sits cross-legged on his bed and watches with his phone in his lap. Sometime during it, Akira becomes hyper-aware of how  _right_ this feels, how pleasantly perfect. On this sunny afternoon, in this one moment shared by them, it feels like there are no Phantom Thieves, no police investigation, no conspiracies, no secrets. They're three friends in a room on a Saturday evening, nothing more, and in that moment Akira wishes that's all they'll ever be.

Goro has an elbow braced on his crossed legs, his head resting in his hand, relaxed eyes focused on the TV screen. He's fiddling with the phone in his lap with his other hand, flipping it over and over, but it's more an absentminded movement than nervous one. The smile touching his lips is still real and quietly blissful. All those gloomy looks when they first started hanging out, Goro sitting near him with a frown like burdens only meant for adults were constantly weighing down his life, couldn't be further from how he looks right now. If that was the case, he looks burdenless now. He looks like he's finally a teenager again.

Ryuji yawns and stretches after his tenth loss to Akira in a row, admitting defeat and announcing his plan to return home for the evening. Goro stays silent, staring down at his phone.

"You still owe me headphones, by the way!" he yells as he heads down the stairs. Akira hears the muttered voices of Sojiro chastising him about keeping being loud around customers and the blond apologizing shortly after.

"I can't say I've ever been kicked out of a store before." Goro's sudden voice is quiet from on the bed, barely audible over the pause music of the video game. "The Phantom Thieves really are criminals."

"You had fun, too, criminal." Akira turns in his chair to face him. It's a statement, not a question, but Goro nods anyway.

"Yes," he whispers. He flops backwards onto Akira's bed, arms spread wide. Akira has never seen him so relaxed in all the time they've known each other. Now that he's thinking about it, this is also the most time they've spent together outside of a Palace. He wonders if it's because they're growing closer or just because Goro is letting him believe that.

Drawn to the other, he stands and approaches. The older boy is flat on his mattress, light brown hair splayed out on his sheets, one leg draped and dangling over the side of the bed. His eyes are half-open and staring at the ceiling.

"Gonna stay the night?" Akira jokes. Maybe there's something serious in it, maybe not. Either way, Goro smiles and closes his eyes.

"Why? Do you want to sleep with me?"

Akira almost trips on the cord of his controller at the words. His ankle yanks it hard, unplugging it and dragging the console dangerously close to falling off his TV stand. Goro doesn't move, doesn't open his eyes, but his smile twitches into a smirk.

He crosses the rest of the room slowly like he's approaching a flock of birds ready to scatter at the drop of a pin. The bed dips when he sits down in what little free space there is beside Goro's hip. Eyes still closed, hair curled around his head, lips graced by a gentle smile; even now, he looks like an angel.

Akira leans over, plants his hands on either side of his head, and wonders what he's doing. How they got here. Where they're going.

"You're so easy to read." Goro's eyes open and scan the face hovering above his while that angelic smile shifts into something with a ting of arrogance and pride. Akira closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see it anymore, then leans down to kiss it away.

The older of the two makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Akira latches onto the sound, tries to drown himself in it. He ends up holding Goro in his arms and cradling him like he's dying. When the older boy finally moves, reaches up to grab his bicep, there's power in his grip, and Akira thinks that maybe he's the one dying instead.

"Get off," Goro tells him, so he does. He leans back and watches the detective sit up and run a hand through his messy hair. He was a participant in the kiss as much as Akira was, but now he looks visibly shaken. His head is angled away, his hand groping the bed for his phone. Akira grabs it from the floor and hands it to him.

"Do you really like me?" he wonders out loud, though he'd rather not know the answer. "Like this?"

As if to spare him pain, Goro smiles slowly and says, "A detective never reveals his secrets."

It spares him nothing.

"I should follow Ryuji's lead and head home before it gets too dark out," he mentions while Akira sits on his bed, smoothing his palms against the sheet. His cheeks are warm. He feels foolish and in love, despicable and righteous, all at once.

When Goro moves to get up, he catches the others hand in his and drags him along, pulling him into a hug. Despite the gulf between them, it's warm and soft. He presses his face to Goro's hair and breathes in deep while the prince rubs his lower back in slow circles.

"I do like you," he whispers. It's too late.

He still kisses Goro before walking him downstairs, then holds his hands and kisses him once more outside Leblanc. Before he leaves for the night, Goro holds his hands a few seconds too long, lingering, eyes cloudy and torn, like a storm rages within them.

"I do like you," he repeats.

The Phantom Thief doesn't know who he's trying to convince anymore: Akira or himself.


End file.
